


Raiment

by Selkie_de_Suzie



Series: Strange Hearts & Wild Things [8]
Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Fairy Clothing, Fairy Fashion, Fangs and Claws make for an interesting makeout, Fluff, Fondling, Partial Nudity, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Smutty Makeouts, Trying On Royal Attire, butterfly bog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 06:53:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4425620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selkie_de_Suzie/pseuds/Selkie_de_Suzie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s wedding talk, and then there’s her sister already presenting her with Queen of the Dark Forest attire. Marianne tries on Dawn’s gift, and Bog wonders if he’s dreaming…</p>
<p>Part 8 of my "Strange Hearts & Wild Things" series!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Raiment

The package lay innocently on the mossy covers of Bog’s bed, bound with a tender green vine, utterly inconspicuous. 

Marianne eyed it as one seizing up a foe, arching a brow at it shrewdly. There was no way to know what it contained, no way to know what she would be asked to face.

Unless she quit the dramatics and just opened the damn thing.

Marianne sighed.  _Oh, Dawn, what were you playing at?_

Her trip back home had been a good one. She had finally managed to talk the Council into drafting up some new clauses and codes that would legitimately establish trading with the Dark Forest. It had been something that she had been insistent that they accomplish ever since she had thought up her diplomacy idea, all those months ago.  _God, nearly a year now_. No matter how much some of them dragged their feet, no Fairy could deny that the Forest would have a bounty of plants and goods that simply could not be found in the Fields, and Marianne’s grin had been triumphant as she collected their signatures of agreement on the scroll proclaiming their new aims in trading.

Things were looking good.  Despite the remaining mutters of courtiers, which Marianne knew would always exist – and despite the faint line that would still appear on her Father’s brow whenever she talked about Bog – Marianne felt it was fair to say that a new acceptance had been achieved when it came to Fairy and Goblin relations.

Marianne let herself luxuriate in the thrill that had coursed through her as she headed back to her chambers for a quick fitting, her steps so light she almost didn’t need her wings. Her fast approaching coronation was gradually losing its fearsome promise as she continued to accomplish all that she had ever wanted. No longer need anyone in either realm live in fear, no longer would superstitions and poisonous old relics of ideals rule. Everyone would be free to go where they liked, having adventures –

Adventures were one thing.

And then…there was this.

Dawn had shoved the package at her after her fitting, eyes eager. “You  _have_ to tell me what you think, okay?”

“Okay,” Marianne had agreed readily enough, though she was tempted to roll her eyes a bit. She had a pretty good idea of what the bundle, wrapped in soft silken rose petals, was. Ever since the official date for her coronation had been set, her sister had gone plum wild with creating gown after gown for all the Queenly occasions she could think of – the actual coronation dress, banquet dresses and ball gowns, et cetera…

Marianne had borne it with good grace, secure in the knowledge that her sister _knew_  what she looked good in, and that she could always convince her to throw in a few more practical outfits. Although to be fair, the sparring garb that Dawn had whipped up was absolutely  _gorgeous_. “I’ll try it on as soon as I can –"

Then Dawn had gripped her hand, eyes going a bit worried. “Just make sure not to do it here, okay? Dad might – well, considering that he’s still being a bit iffy about you and Boggy –"

Marianne was torn between thankfulness that she hadn’t imagined their Father’s attitude and frank curiosity. “Wait, what  _is_  this?”

Dawn had bit her lip, teetering between nervous and excited. “Wellll, I was thinking about all the dresses I had made for you so far, and how happy I was with them, and how you always seemed to like them –" She paused anxiously. “You do, don’t you?”

“They’re perfect.” Marianne answered promptly.

Dawn’s wings fluttered with pleasure before continuing. “But then I thought, well great, she’s covered for all the stuff she’ll need when she’s the Fairy Queen, but what about when she’s the other Queen?”

Marianne’s brow furrowed. “Other -?”

“You know! When you’re…” Dawn blushed and her shoulders gave a wriggle of excitement, “…when you’re the Queen of the Dark Forest!  _The Bog Queen!_ Actually, wait, would that be your official title?  I know that Boggy’s actual name is Bog, but I got to tell you, the Marianne Queen sounds a little bit –"

_“_ DAWN!” Marianne cut through, shock making her voice loud. She immediately checked to see if her pixies were near, but they were still back in the dressing room, happily chirping and giggling over the soft heap of garments that Marianne had tried on, Bluebell twirling around with a spider silk ribbon while Thistle and Clover cooed in delight. She lowered her voice to a hiss.  _“You made me formal wear for the Dark Forest!?”_

Dawn blinked. “Well, yeah, you’re gonna need it –"

_“One day,”_  Marianne interjected, her heart going all flip-floppy. “One far,  _far_  off day, Dawn. Not right now! That’s – Bog and I haven’t even talked about getting –!“ she cut herself off, her cheeks blooming red as roses. Oh dammit, now Dawn was gonna move onto wedding dresses -!

But Dawn had merely given her a patient look. “It’s gonna happen, Marianne,” she had said, her tone matter-of-fact. “We all know it. Why not get ready?”

Marianne’s mouth had opened and closed like a minnow, stunned by her sister’s certainty. Dawn had never been so sure with Roland…

Dawn had patted her hand like she was the motherly one in their relationship, blithely ignoring her sister’s gob-smacked expression. “Besides, who said you have to wear only after you get married? I mean, I’m sure there’s got to be special events over at the Forest that you can dress up for –"

“Dawn,” Marianne interrupted, pressing a hand into her sister’s, tucking the bundle under one arm with the other, “Thank you. Seriously, you’re super sweet to make this. But it’s just a bit early to –"

“Just try it on,” Dawn pleaded. “Let me know what you think.” Then she rolled her eyes. “Also, a bit early? Marianne, c’mon, you two have been taking your sweet time!”

_Better then rushing in like a fool,_  Marianne had been tempted to retort, but she knew that would have been too harsh. Dawn meant well, as she always did. And it wasn’t like she was entirely wrong, they  _had_  been taking things slower than others had expected, given that they has fallen for each other so quickly.

But maybe that was why…Never mind that both of their hearts, while most definitely healing, still bore old scars that could still flare up from time to time. Never mind that there were still disparaging whispers from time to time in each of their Kingdom’s about their ruler’s – or soon-to-be-ruler, in Marianne’s case – chosen consort.

Especially never mind that despite his unquestionable love for her, her Father was still struggling to accept that his daughter’s happiness involved a Goblin…

In the end, Bog and Marianne simply  _wanted_  to take time, wanted to have exploration and wonder, luxuriate in the thrilling and terrifying newness, newness that could still exist even after so many months together,  _every day is an adventure with him…_

But their wants came second to the realities of their Kingdoms. It wasn’t just Griselda talking about weddings. Now there were murmurs of it in her Kingdom, mutters and whispers and gossip that Marianne had pointedly ignored even as her ears burned. Her sister’s words now rang in them. “ _It’s gonna happen, Marianne. We all know it.”_

They all knew it…but it was accepting it that was the issue.

At least she could take comfort in knowing that she could always count on her baby sister’s support. Honestly, Dawn probably _was_ wise to make her such an outfit. Whatever it may look like…

_Oh god, please let it actually be something I would wear…_

Marianne gritted her teeth. Right, no more stalling.

She picked up the package and tore at the bindings, ivy and rose petals tearing with a soft little  _shhuurr_ , and before she could catch it, something dark and glittering tumbled from her arms onto the moss, pooling in a soft heap.

Marianne quirked her eyebrows. Dawn  _never_  normally used such dark colors…She cautiously picked up the garment, the pads of her fingers rubbing slightly at the fabric, curiously studying it.

She noted with surprise that despite the sheer softness of it, the garment seemed to be quite durable. She wasn’t sure what material her sister used, but the lush, silken petals that made the dress came from far darker bloom than Marianne had ever seen blossom in the Fields.  _Who would have thought Dawn would have willingly go near that much dark purple?_ Marianne snorted softly, before holding up the garment to the looking glass, studying her reflection.

It was… _subtle_ , which was surprising, considering Dawn and her preferences for soft pastels and bright, happy tones. The rich, dark violet was nearly black, and it shone softly in the light, the natural iridescence of the petals enhanced by what seemed to be a filigree of black, glinty beads, woven into a intricate, cobwebby design. The result was a subdued sparkle that Marianne had to admit was pretty gorgeous.

The bodice was cut in a deep gash, making Marianne raise a brow at Dawn’s daring. The skirt parted to reveal an underskirt of a lighter purple, the same rich magenta of her usual tunic, both hems cut in a jagged fashion that Marianne knew must have given her sister fits. The waist was cinched by a fawn colored leather band, almost golden against the darkness that was etched with the flowers and vines of her home kingdom. It was sleeveless –  _good for sparring, thanks sis_  – and high-collared, trimmed with an elegant flaring of spikes that made Marianne think of nettles and brambles, fanning out in a way that would undoubtedly frame her face when she actually wore it.

Marianne slowly moved closer to the mirror, the garment continuing to glimmer with dark beauty. Nettles and darkness, shimmer and shadow given form…

_It’s so…_

A rush of eagerness swept over her – she  _had_  to try it on, had to have it on her body, see what she would look like in it –

She tossed it to the bed before hastily tugging at her boots and her top, pulling them off. It could go over her pants easily, besides, they were dark, and they would go well with it –

It went on easily with a few wriggles, slipping over her arms smoothly, the fabric lush and clinging to her skin like it was meant to be there. Marianne brushed her hair away from her face and tugged at the bodice, before turning back to the mirror, her cheeks flushing in excitement. Her eyes widened as she took in her reflection.

_She looked…she was…_

…Not too bad. Pretty good, in fact. Maybe even verging on great.

Marianne fiddled with a stray, disobedient lock and then snorted, a grin of bashfulness and disbelief and pure girly pleasure breaking across her face. Dawn would have been so insulted to hear her downplay the affect of her creation, damn modesty and deprecation. She looked  _amazing!_

She fanned out her wings and turned this way and that, the violet glow of them across the rich dark purple of the gown making it shimmer even more, and almost blushed at how stunningly  _lovely_  it was, how  _she_ was making it so –!

Her hair seemed to shine with a new dark luster and her eyes glowed with a rich honey light against the shadowy beauty of the gown, the dazzle of the beads making the bright hazel even more brilliant. Her skin was pale and flawless against the dark sparkle, creamy and… _very_  exposed, holy hell…

Marianne looked down at the bodice, once again feeling a faint thrill of shock at Dawn’s design. Now that she had the dress on, the dramatic revealing slash of the bodice seemed even more flagrant. Her breasts were still covered, but a swath of skin was still bared, the hollow of her collar and breastbone and the hard plane of her stomach visible. The sparkle of the beads only brought more attention to it, and Marianne’s eyes kept getting drawn to their flash and how they contrasted with the pale skin. She bit her lip - was she supposed to wear something under it? Only the band stopped it from going all the way down, before something else was seen–

Marianne felt herself blush.  _Jeez, Dawn!_

Refusing to let herself fall prey to tender sensibilities and delicate modesty, Marianne passed a hand through her hair, ruffling her locks as she drank in the sight of herself. She had never thought of herself as… _ugly_ , per say, but nothing truly remarkable, not compared to Dawn’s golden halo of locks and bright blue eyes.

But now, wearing this gown, her dark features so lovingly complimented and contrasted…she looked so…mysterious and compelling, fierce and dark and dangerous, something elegant but still a force to be reckoned with.  _Moonlight and shadow and briar, smoke and glitter, stunning and powerful…_

She looked like she could easily be the Queen of such a dark domain, and the thought made her heart race.

Marianne struck a pose, her hands falling to her hips, her chin tilted up commandingly as her eyes sunk half-closed, the amber glinting at imagined subjects, and the sight tickled her so that her cool poise was broken by bashful laughter. God, she looked so freaking  _royal…!_

Well, she was, wasn’t she? Marianne tossed her hair, and struck another pose in front of the mirror, giving it an exaggerated smolder. She’d been a Princess all her life, now she was just seeing what it would look like to be a Queen.

_Queen of the Dark Forest._

Marianne batted the thought away, and went to tug another stray lock behind her ear before she paused, frowning at her reflection pensively. Now that she thought about it…she probably didn’t have to worry about keeping her hair neat when wearing this. Goblins enjoyed wild things - the fiercer and more savage she looked, the better.

She quickly ruffled her hair, grinning at how easily it turned into a veritable thicket, and then considered her eyes for a few moments before dragging her fingers across them, smudging her makeup even more. The smoky shadow grew more wild, edging up to her brows, highlighting the fine lines of her bone structure. Marianne pinched her cheeks and bit her lips to bring more color to them, and then surveyed herself in the mirror. Her lips slowly quirked in a smug smirk. Not bad at all. Appropriately wild and wicked and winsome.  _Damn, Dawn, I owe you._   

Although…okay, she definitely  _looked_  the part of Queen of the Dark Forest. But could she  _act_  it?

Marianne placed her hands on her hips once more, taking in a deep breath.  _Okay…commanding. Royal._  She tilted her chin regally and arched a brow. “May I ask what you’re doing in the…?” 

No, no no no, all wrong. Way too polished, too formal. Goblins didn’t respect sophistication, they respected savagery.  _Wild, fierce, untamed and unafraid._ Marianne shifted, lowering her chin and glaring up at her reflection, her eyes shadowed and burning.  _Oooh, nice._

Now the voice. Marianne recalled how Bog would address his subjects if they annoyed him one too many times, and bared her teeth. “Who are  _you_  to trespass in the Dark Forest?” She snarled fiercely, her eyes glinting with the promise of hell to pay. “Tell me,  _now!”_

“Merely its King,” a familiar voice said from behind her, rather dryly.  

Marianne let out shriek that was decidedly un-commanding, spinning around in a panic.  _“Bog!_  Oh my god, you  _jerk,_  you scared me half to death!”

Bog pushed himself away from the doorframe where he had been leaning – and watching her for heaven knows how long, Marianne though resentfully, still smarting – and made his way to her, a smirk on his lips at her reaction. “What on earth are you doing, Tough –?”

He suddenly seemed to take in her appearance, her wild hair and smoky eyes and new dress and abruptly stopped speaking, blue eyes going wide. When he finally did speak, he sounded winded.  _“What is **that**?”_

Marianne looked down and groaned, still flushed with embarrassment. “Dawn’s latest creation. You know how I told you she wants to make me a whole new wardrobe for when I’m Queen?” Marianne fiddled with her hair, biting her lip. “Well, apparently, she decided to get a jumpstart on some other things and make me some stuff for-" Marianne looked up at Bog and sighed, then waved a hand in front of his face. “Bog?  _Hello?_  Are you even listening to me?”

“I am,” Bog said in a deeply empathetic tone, his eyes helplessly fixed on the deep plunge of her bodice, “ _extremely_  distracted right now.”  

Marianne felt herself flush for a far different reason, a grin twitching at her lips despite herself as she took in the awed look in his eyes.

At this point in their relationship, Bog had become well-versed in the intricacies of Fairy clothing. Well, okay, familiar enough to know his way around removing her top, though he would still fall back to slicing the seams with his claws if they were both impatient enough. Marianne honestly hadn’t tried to discourage him all that much, even if it meant that several of her tunics now bore sewn up tears. She had laughed over the fact that it was no longer just her skin that bore marks of his passion. But there were still moments where he could be thrown for a loop…

Such as now. Marianne glanced down and felt the hint of a grin turn into a full-fledged smirk. Well, what with how pleased  _she_  was with this dress, she could only imagine how enamored Bog was…

Glancing up at him once more, Marianne bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing. “You know, I’m still gonna be here if you blink.”

He  _did_  blink at that, before blushing heavily, scratching a claw at the back of his neck, obviously not sure what to do with his hands. “I know that! I just – that dress – it’s…“ He dared another glance and his expression quickly fell back into helpless wonder, his eyes traveling over the soft sheen of the petals, the glimmer of the filigree, the pale swath of hard muscle and soft skin.

Marianne smiled slyly, even as her heart gave a flutter. “I take it that you like it?”

His voice was almost hoarse with earnestness.  _“Aye.”_

Marianne chuckled and sauntered over to him, and hey, if her hips swayed a bit more than usual, he wasn’t going to complain. She looped his arms around her waist before twining her own around his neck, and gave him a cheeky grin. “I’ll tell Dawn you approve.”

Her words seemed to break through whatever smitten fog had descended over him, and he quirked a brow at her, surprised. “Dawn made this? It’s rather…  _different_ from what she usually does, isn’t it?”

Marianne smirked at him teasingly. “I thought you  _liked_ different.”

“I bloody love it,” Bog stated empathetically, once again letting his eyes travel over her. “Especially when it looks like  _that_. I’m just… _surprised_  that she made something  _so_ …” He shrugged, his words lost once more.

Marianne once again struggled with not laughing over how frankly besotted his face was.  _This dork is the Goblin who rules over the Dark Forest, feared by subjects and enemies alike._  God, sometimes that was hard to reconcile. “Dawn prefers the bright stuff,” she said frankly, absentmindedly letting her fingers run up and down his arms as he held her. “But she knows what works best on me, and when she has a certain goal, she does her damndest to meet it.” Marianne waved a hand at herself. “Apparently, attire for the Dark Forest isn’t as beyond her as I would have thought.”

Bog’s brow furrowed. “Attire for the –" he stopped, his eyes widening, and he pulled back from her in shock. “Wait, you’re saying – she made  _this-",_  his claws gestured to the dark splendor of the gown that rendered her such a sight, his voice getting a touch higher “-for  _here?!”_

Marianne blushed and gave a slightly embarrassed laugh. “Well, _technically_ , it’s supposed to be for when I’m…well…” she shrugged, feeling her flush travel down her back, tingling at the bases of her wings, and tried again. “She thought what with all the new clothes I’m getting for when I’m Queen of the Light Fields, I ought to have some things for…” she blushed even more fiercely and desperately tried not to fidget. “For when I’m…when we…”  _Oh god, she was **awful**  at this._

Bog arched a brow at her embarrassment, befuddled, and when he glanced back down at her gown she could see he was trying to work it out, going over her words.  _Dawn made this for here… what with all the new clothes I’m getting for when I’m Queen…I ought to have some things for…_

Marianne could have sworn she saw him lean back when the realization hit him, he was so stunned. “ _This is,”_  Bog whispered, his voice quiet and thunderstruck,  _“this is for…when ye…an’ Ah…?”_

Marianne nodded and gently twined her fingers with his, even as her cheeks still bloomed with warmth. “Yeah…” she murmured, and she met his wide-eyed gaze with her own, unflinching even as nerves squeezed at her gut.

“ _It’s gonna happen, Marianne. We all know it.”_

She clasped his hands tight, exhaling rather shakily. _This is for when we rule together. This is for when I’m your Queen._

_There are some things,_ Marianne realized as Bog continued to be lost for words, his eyes dipping down once more to take her in, seeing the garment,  _her_ , anew in the light of such a revelation, _that you can just be certain about._

Even on that long ago day, gowned in white and collecting tender petals and full of giddy, naïve rapture, she had been unsure. Now here she was, dressed in darkness and brambles, watching her fingers twine with sharp talons, and she had never been more certain.  _It’s gonna happen. We both know it. We don’t have to talk about it, don’t need to for a while, but we both know it will._

_I want it to. And I know you do too_.

“So…” Marianne was jolted from her reverie as Bog spoke, his voice stronger though there was still an edge to it that told how deeply his world had been rocked by this truth what remained unspoken but deeply understood. “This is…this is what ye’ll wear?  _Exactly_  this?”

Marianne nodded, glancing down at herself once more. “Yeah…I mean, I’m still gonna wear my normal clothes, obviously, but…for, um, formal occasions? If you have those here?” She raised a shoulder in a shrug, hunching a bit. “Yeah, this will be it.” She looked down at again and bit her lip at her exposed front. “I…I can tell Dawn that I need something that covers me more, if you want –"

“Ye’ll look like ye’re tauntin’ any beast that would dare ta attack ye,” Bog said, almost as if he couldn’t hear her. Marianne felt her heartbeat thud in her ears at how his voice had dropped to a low, heated murmur. “Barin’ yer flesh to proclaim ye do nae even  _need_ protection. Tha’ they cannae even  _dream_  of touchin’ ye.” Claws gently untangled themselves from her grip, and his palm was at her throat, stroking down her neck, past her collarbone, over the hollow between her breasts, claws gently gliding over the pale, smooth skin, their journey followed intently by his eyes.

Marianne gulped, almost dizzy. When he sounded like that, touched her like that… _He has no idea what he does to me._

“ _You’re_  touching me,” she said, her attempt at levity somewhat ruined by how breathy she sounded.  Bog glanced up at her, and his eyes,  _oh_ , the blue of them positively  _burned._

She managed a smirk, even as her heart was pounding, his voice and eyes and touch making her gut clench, sending sparks of fiery want racing through her blood. “You know…Dawn will want feedback…” She murmured, shifting closer to him. She tilted her chin up to look at him in a way she knew arched her neck in an elegant line, and there was a bit of a purr to her voice as she continued. “Anything in… _particular_  I should say you liked?” 

His smile was slow and dark and positively predatory, and  _oh_ , she could  _totally_ reconcile that he ruled such a dangerous realm when he looked at her like  _that_ , a Goblin eyeing a Fairy with such unabashed hunger in his eyes. Old childhood warnings of dark beasts feasting on fey flesh ran through her mind, and Marianne nearly let out a giddy, breathless laugh. Oh, there was a desire to  _consume_  her, all right…

_“Ah cannae tell ye,”_  Bog answered, his voice a low, throaty growl. His slant of a smile suddenly grew into a grin sharp in both fang and intent.  _“But Ah can show ye.”_

Marianne’s knees buckled at the sheer heat of his promise, and she suddenly found herself being pulled up into his arms, her bare feet swinging as she was settled around his hips. She had to laugh, throwing back her head and positively cackling, even as she twined her arms around his neck and Bog pressed hot and hungry kisses along the line of her throat. Oh man, between the dress and the sheer wildness he always brought forth in her, small wonder that Dawn had been so certain.  _God, I’m really meant for this place, aren’t I?_

Or maybe, Marianne thought, glee and mischief and want rolling up through her in a hot wave as he moved to the bed, biting her lip against a wanton moan as Bog sucked hard on the smooth, sloping angle where her neck joined her shoulder, tongue laving over the fresh bite marks and his breath already ragged, she was just meant for  _him._

Suddenly, she was on the bed, stretched out on the velvety moss beneath him, and she gave a whine at the abrupt lack of contact. Bog merely smirked before he followed after her, his eyes heavy lidded and hungry. Ohhh, he was doing that prowling thing she absolutely  _loved_. She relished the moment, greedily watching him crawl over her like some beast, thrilling when she saw the distinctly predatory glint to his eyes as he caged her beneath his arms.

Marianne shamelessly encouraged him, biting at her lip before giving it a slow pass of her tongue, and his gaze darkened at that. She let her eyes sink into a smolder slowly running a foot up along his leg, making his breath catch. She vaguely wished she had taken off her pants after all – she wanted to feel the glorious roughness of his exoskeleton on  _every_ bit of her.

Determined not to be distracted, she quickly hooked her leg around his hips and pulled him to her, bringing their bodies flush together. Marianne arched at the sensation, rocking against him, and Bog gave a growling purr before going back to ravishing every inch of her skin his mouth could reach, making his ravenous way down her body.

“You do realize,” Marianne gasped, grinning despite the positively dizzying effect all of his touches were having on her, the slight sting of his fangs gentled by the rough, wet heat of his tongue, the gentle sucking kisses and teasing nips trailing down the line of her abdomen, “that you can’t do this  _every_  time I wear this -”

“Ah can do what Ah bludy well want,” Bog muttered against her, and Marianne writhed with pleasure at the exquisite contrast of his rough jaw and soft mouth. “Ah’m the King.”   

Marianne snorted. “ _A King shouldn’t put himself before his kingdom,”_  she quoted, her arch tone fraying somewhat as he gave a slow, dragging lick up towards her breast, and she tried to control her shudder of pleasure. Her breasts were already peaking; the silken texture of the dress heightened against the stimulated flesh, an exquisite blossom of heat beginning to bloom at her core.

Bog’s laugh was a warm growl against her skin, and she purred at the sensation of his breath gusting over her, hot and moist. “True enough, but Ah highly doubt –“ he interrupted himself to nuzzle and nip at the soft mound of her right breast, and Marianne moaned, bucking slightly, “-tha’ yer father would ‘ave thought o’ somethin’ like  _this_  takin’ precedence.”

“Never in a million years,” Marianne gasped, dragging needy fingers into his scalp to hold him there. “But if I wear this in front of the goblins –" 

“Ah would order them nae ta mind. Or –", Bog grit his teeth and hissed with pleasure as she dragged hungry fingers  _hard_ down his back, causing his wings to twitch like mad, “- _ta’ jist bludy leave us be_  –"

“Misuse of power,” Marianne purred.

“Minor one,” Bog growled, his gaze positively scorching her as he looked up. He grinned darkly. “Ye wear tha’ out, ye’d be tauntin’ me in a far different manner.” Claws trailed down her sides. “An’ ye know by now Ah would never let a challenge go unanswered.”

“Sure do,” Marianne agreed, petting the sharp line of his cheek, her voice fond. “Competitive jackass.”

Bog bit at her wrist for that, before kissing her fingertips. Marianne stroked her thumb over his lower lip –  _rough and yet soft, he’s so many incredible contradictions_ \- before giving a breathless gasp when he suddenly snagged her index finger with his mouth. She moaned helplessly when he sucked on it, tongue and teeth grazing the slender digit. “ _Ye like it,”_  he muttered, his mouth slanting and his eyes bright with mirth and desire.

Marianne felt a delicious burning thrill of happiness – oh, she  _did_ , she completely and utterly did, she  _loved_  that he challenged her, loved that he never backed down from a fight, let her never doubt that he gave his all when facing her, he respected her so absolutely.

Honestly, there was only way she could respond to that.

She locked her other leg around him and yanked him down to her, sliding her fingers free before claiming his mouth in a through, conquering kiss.

Bog groaned thickly into her mouth as he yielded to her ravenous desire, quite possibly the only time the King of the Dark Forest would ever surrender so easily. It was that thought that made a little mewl of pleasure escape her, which was helped along by Bog’s hips rolling against hers. She rocked right back, and Bog’s head dropped to her chest, his shoulders heaving in helpless pants. Marianne’s head lolled at the onslaught of sensation, breathless and grinning as his claws slid down her front, raking against skin. God, when their challenges were like _this_  –

“Ah,  _hells.”_

Marianne blinked dazed eyes and looked down, jolted from her rapture by Bog’s curse. “What is it?”

_“Damn things,”_  Bog snarled, flexing his claws and glaring at them balefully. “Ye start to think ye’ve got a handle on them, but all it takes is one careless slip –“ He sighed and gave her an extremely contrite look. “Marianne, I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to–"

Marianne curiously looked down and let out a little noise of dismay at the undeniable rip that left a sizable tear in the bodice. “Oh,  _damn –”_

Bog scrambled off of her, looking desperately guilty. “I’m so sorry, love -”

Marianne quickly pulled him back, pushing herself up at the same time. “No, no no no, it’s okay, it will be fine,” she soothed, stroking at the nape of his neck. “Bog, c’mon, you know tears don’t bother me –"

“But I ruined it!”

“ _You did not ruin it,”_  Marianne said, rolling her eyes at him. “Dawn can fix it. You just gave it more personality. I’ll look like I was in a fight, it will be great.”

His shoulders remained hunched, his eyes still regretful. “It won’t be the same –"

She placed a finger to his lips, hushing him. “No, it won’t,” she answered frankly, “It will be even better. Bog, seriously, it’s just a dress. I already ruined one of Dawn’s creations. The hem was too long and the lamp was in the way and – well, anyway, she patched it up easily. She can do the same for this.” Marianne glanced down and grinned. “Honestly, this is gonna make it look even cooler. In the meantime, we can make this work to our advantage.”

Bog cocked a brow at her, wary and disbelieving. “How so…?”

A smirk slowly furled across Marianne’s lips, and she languidly tugged at the tear. With a soft  _purr_  the fabric ripped further, deeper, exposing even more creamy, soft skin, the air cool against her –

“Like I said,” Marianne murmured as Bog gave a noticeable gulp, his eyes widening as she let her hand caress her bared breast, “I don’t mind tears or scars. On my clothes –", her eyes flashed at him, full of dark heat and meaning,  _“-or anywhere else.”_

She tossed her head and cocked a brow at him, imperiously waiting for him to respond as only a future Queen could. 

She did not have to wait long.

He was on her in the span of a heartbeat, claws at her wrists and fangs at her pulse, moaning around a mouthful of skin, something that might have been a cross between her name and a rasp of rapture.

Marianne’s moan was almost giggly as a hand stroked at her breast, his rough fingers sending ripples of shivery pleasure cascading through her, and she arched hard against him as he pressed her down into the moss. Sucking at his earlobe and drawing a deep-throated groan from him, Marianne felt it only fair to return the favor and snaked a hand down between them,  _way_ down. Her mission soon proved successful when Bog jerked against her, his shuddery moan almost panicked.

Marianne gave another laugh, this one ragged and breathless and wicked – so  _those_  scales were sensitive too, huh?  _Useful to know_. Bog bit at her mouth in hungry retaliation, sucking on her lip with a soft snarl. Marianne writhed against him and made a throaty noise of encouragement, grinning as she felt the dress tear some more.  _Good thing Dawn is resourceful, or she would kill me._   

At that moment, Bog chose to bite at her ear as he bucked against her, growling fiercely, and Marianne quickly decided that the best course of action was an immediate surrender to the mindless, hedonistic bliss only he could give her.  

* * *

Marianne sighed, forlorn.  _Dawn is gonna kill me._

She was back at the Fairy Palace for another meeting with the Council, and she knew without a doubt that her sister was anxiously awaiting her verdict about the gown.  That wasn’t the part that had Marianne’s stomach twisting up in knots. It was gorgeous, utterly perfect - there was nothing the matter with the gown!

_Except for the part that it no longer exists…_

Marianne’s shoulders slumped as she made her way to Dawn’s room. It seemed like no matter what activity she and Bog did together, sheer enthusiasm went hand in hand with wanton destruction. Damn claws. Damn claws and rough fingers and wicked hands that shredded and peeled all that hard work away as easily as you pleased in hungry pursuit of more skin. Damn fangs that peeled away layer after layer until she was exposed and tender as a new bud, flushed and dewy with desire.  _Damn me for shamelessly egging him on._

And now she had to beg her sister’s forgiveness and plead with her to make new Dark Forest attire…

Marianne reflected somewhat morosely that it was a good thing that she had been given Dawn’s share of the ability to hold grudges. Not only had it given her a vast source of fuel for her determination to never give into Roland’s wheedling, it now meant that there was a strong chance Dawn would actually forgive her.

Holding onto that semi-comforting thought, Marianne went to push open the door to Dawn’s chamber, only to have it swing open suddenly, and she jumped back, startled.

Dawn also hopped back, her wings flaring. “ _Oh!_  Oh my gosh, Marianne, you scared me! But I’m so glad you’re here, I was just about to go find you –"

“About the dress, yeah, I figured,” Marianne cut in, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, hoping she didn’t look  _too_  guilty. “It’s seriously freaking gorgeous Dawn, but, um –"

Dawn gave a little sigh. “I know, I know,” she cut in, shrinking back a bit and biting her lip. “ _The bodice_. Marianne, I’m  _so_  sorry, I swear I thought I grabbed the finished version! God, you must have been so–"

Marianne blinked at her. “Wait, what? The finished version?”

Dawn nodded guiltily. “Yeah, that one was the sort of the first draft, you know? Well, actually, the second draft, the first one didn’t have the beading – anyway, I am so sorry! After all the fuss I made!” She blinked contrite blue eyes at her sister. “I promise, I can get you the finished version, I just have to sew the bodice –"

It was at that point Marianne realized her sister had a dark, glittery triangle of material tossed over her arm, ornate with beading and looking like it was the perfect fit to cover a certain plunging neckline in a certain dress.  ** _Oh_** _. Ooooh…!_

Dawn continued on obliviously. “I hope you liked the rest of the dress, I mean, I know it’s a bit on the dark side, but I figured, y’know, Dark Forest, dark dress, they sort of work together –"

“Dawn,” Marianne interrupted, quickly clasping her sister’s hands. “Dawn, the dress was absolutely  _perfect._  I couldn’t get over how much I freaking loved it, it was so gorgeous.”

Dawn perked up at that, her wings flitting. “Really?”

“Of course! Bog loved it too.” Marianne flashed back to Bog moving down her, the sensation of teeth and tongue and lips making an echoing pulse of heat go through her. “Really,  _really_  loved it. Is the final version a lot like the second one?”

Dawn nodded, her springy hair bouncing. “Yeah, pretty much the exact same, only with a more beading and, y’know, the bodice –"

“Actually, Dawn? Don’t need the bodice.” Marianne ran a hand through her hair, fingers gently passing over her collar, pressing lightly over a hidden mark - the result of a particularly passionate, sucking kiss - that had bloomed and faded into a rather fetching shade of lavender. “I think the bodice doesn’t even need to factor in at all.”

Dawn blinked at her, her sweet face scrunching in confusion. “Wait, what?  _Why?”_

Marianne hummed and shrugged a shoulder, studiously keeping a blush off her face. “Goblins apparently have this, uh,  _thing_  about baring skin. It’s seen as this super confident thing to do, really makes them respect you.”  _It also makes their Kings have the mother of all makeout sessions with you, so win-win_. 

Dawn shook her head. “Goblins are  _weird.”_

Marianne laughed, also shaking her head. “That’s why I love ‘em.” She seized her baby sister in a hug. “And I love you too. Seriously Dawn, that dress was to die for. I can’t wait to see what else you have planned for me.”

Dawn blushed primrose pink with pleasure, and fluttered a hand deprecatingly. “Oh, it’s nothing! I’m just happy I can help you in some way, what with the coronation coming up!” She looked at her older sister questioningly. “How are you feeling about that, by the way? Excited? Nervous? Bit of both?”

“Bit of both,” Marianne nodded, leaning against the door. “But honestly…eager, most of all. I just can’t wait to finally really go ahead with the diplomacy program. I’ve been getting stuff done, but there’s so much more that I’ll be able to do as Queen. Whenever I get nervous-“,  _or damn near sick to my stomach_ , “-I just think about that.”

She continued, her voice getting softer and her mouth getting a tender slant to it. “And then there’s Bog…he helps too…”

_Claws gliding through her hair, pressing soft kisses between her wings, cradling her to him - he always got a bit snuggly after a make out - as she quietly made a confession. “With the clothes, I may look like one, but…it’s **feeling**  like a Queen that’s the issue. I don’t know if I ever will…”_

_“Believe me, Tough Girl – you could wear bloody anythin’, and it wouldn’t change who you are, what you were born for. Be it for Field or Forest…you were meant to rule. You’re…you’re gonna be an **amazing**  Queen, Marianne.”_

Marianne’s smile grew softer, and Dawn gave a little rapturous sigh at the sight, her eyes even brighter than usual with happiness. “You two…oh Marianne, I’m just so happy for you guys, you’re just so –"

“Still very much anti-sappy, mushy, romantic stuff,” Marianne interjected, reaching over to tweak Dawn’s nose.

Dawn giggled and batted her sister’s hand away. “Say that all you want, it doesn’t stop you from being cute.”

Marianne playfully growled at her, making Dawn giggle even more. Marianne joined in on the laughter before something occurred to her. “You, ah, won’t  _need_  the dress you gave me, right? The first one?”

“No, I already have the other one ready to go, and if you’re sure about not needing the bodice, I can –“ Dawn paused then, her brow crinkling. “Wait…what happened to the first one?”

Marianne was very proud that her face did not betray her with any blushes. “It…had a brief but glorious existence.”  _And is currently spending its remaining days as tatters on the floor of the royal chamber._

Dawn blinked at her, utterly nonplussed.

Marianne laughed. “Don’t worry about it. C’mon, show me what else you got for me.”

Shaking her head slightly but smiling at how utterly happy her goofball sister was, Dawn opened the door further and flitted into the chamber, already rambling about the latest work she had added to the coronation gown, something about a train of spider silk and dewdrop diamonds.

It sounded lovely, but Marianne was thinking about a far different and darker sparkle, luxuriously wrapping around her body one moment and peeled off in passion the next. Honestly, it was a damn shame they hadn’t been more careful with such a gorgeous thing. 

_At least we gave it one hell of a send off._

Marianne smirked, before following in after Dawn, head held high and regal. Truly, a garment couldn’t ask more from the King and _Maybe One Not So Far Off Day_ Queen of the Dark Forest.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone is curious, I drew a picture of what I envisioned Marianne's Queen of the Dark Forest attire would look like. You can find it here: http://suzie-guru.tumblr.com/post/125013366448/what-is-it-with-me-drawing-fan-art-of-my-own


End file.
